


A Stone Throw Away

by xancrish



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Obsessive Behavior, Pining Murtagh, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2169927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xancrish/pseuds/xancrish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Eragon wants is to have some fun, away from his brother. So he brings home a girl. But that stormy night, things don't go as planned as he's greeted by his very possessive brother at the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stone Throw Away

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted from my fanfiction account. Written in January 2011. Edited October 2014.

The room was completely dark.

An occasional stream of white would pierce through the open window, brightening the room momentarily, like faux-daylight, before going back to its gloom. The thunder rattled the panes and then, as if on queue, the shrill cry of frightened stray animals could be heard.

The wind was harsh and bellowed furiously. The blinds lifted up in a constant dance against the wind. Chillness escaped into the room and hung in the air, uninvited on this September night.  

The room's only occupant did not care in the least.

Murtagh sat across from the door, on a comfortable looking bean-bag with his legs crossed. His breathing was calm – in and out, in and out, and his heart was steady. His face was a mask of calmness – nothing amiss there, either.

Everything was okay.

The clock hand moved. A little bird from the miniature grandfather clock chimed a sing-song 'eleven'.

Murtagh's fingers tightened on the leather-bag's side, where the seams were. Was it already eleven?

Moments later, he had to pull his thumb out of a little tear he had absentmindedly made. He looked at the bird again. It was quiet now. It wasn't singing its stupid song anymore. Just a little wooden bird.

The brunette sank deeper into the bean-bag, and closed his eyes.

It was going to rain  _bad_. Maybe a storm. Maybe, worse.

The lightening might strike down a tree or break a pavement, collapse billboards. Maybe someone who was wandering in the streets, drunk and wayward might be killed. 

He smiled.

Murtagh loved thunderstorms. 

Without meaning to, he grew comfortable in his couch. 

When the little bird came out again, Murtagh was already asleep. 

*

Murtagh woke up to the sound of high pitched giggles and loud foot steps. It took him one confused moment to put together where he was, and what was happening.

 _Eragon._ A shrill alarm, like that of an ambulance's siren went off in his mind. 

He stood up on his unsteady legs and moved towards the door. But he didn't need to go far.

The door opened and revealed a familiar blond kid, standing at the entrance. He wasn't looking inside. He was distracted by the girl who stood by him. 

A bashful smile was in his face, his blue eyes gleaming as he looked at a pretty brunette in his arms. They looked beautiful together, and their embrace spoke of intimacy that only came with familiarity. 

Murtagh cocked his head sideways, and looked them with a steady gaze. May be, he was still dreaming. He probably was. 

Eragon wouldn't dare. 

They didn't notice the brunette, right away; the darkness camouflaged him well enough. Ironically, though, light from the street-lamp fell directly on the couple, and there they were, on spot-light, like posing for a cheesy dating show.  

Murtagh felt like he had swallowed hot coal. But he didn't move though. Nor, did say a word. He was sure this was a dream. A nightmare. 

The pair stepped inside together, at last, their step perfectly in sync with each other's. Eragon who was taller by a foot, bent down, curly blond hair falling over his eyes and urgently whispered something in the girl's ear. They looked at each other for a second before breaking out into giggles. There was nobody else in the world but them. 

Murtagh couldn't stop the sneer from forming on his lips. 

Eragon hit the lights near the coat stand, arms still around the giggling brunette girl, and turned his back to the door. 

The spell broke. 

"Murtagh?" said Eragon, surprise. It was evident on his face.  The goofy smile was quick to disappear. He had been caught. Eragon must know that. Because he glanced at his partner, then back at his brother. Was that guilt shadowing his blue eyes? Murtagh wasn't sure. "What are you doing here?"

The girl Eragon had brought with him, brought _home_ paled at sight of the stranger, and shifted closer to him. A protective hand went around her automatically.

Murtagh felt blood on his tongue. He had bit his cheek to hard. He didn't feel the pain though.

_Eragon wouldn't dare._

"What am I doing here?" Murtagh repeated, eyebrows raised in wonderment, "Oh, why brother, I live here, don't I?"

"Oh shut up, Murtagh," Eragon rolled his eyes, his face showing nonchalance. Yet, he was shuffling his feet, on the same spot. "You know what I meant. Why are you up so late?"

"I could ask you the same question," said Murtagh, his voice calm, and leisure. He had all the time in the world.

Eragon still had his arm around the girl. It was a tight grip by the looks of it. The girl didn't seemed to mind it. She was clinging to him in a similar fashion.

Murtagh fought the urge to punch something.

"I just came in!" shouted Eragon, exasperatedly.

"That's right," said Murtagh, titling to his head to the side and nodding, “You just came in. And, what were you doing before you 'just came in'?”

" _Stuff_ ," said Eragon, gritting his teeth. “Look can we go now? It's late. You are tired and so are we. We will talk tomorrow.”

This time it was hard to put down the thought of breaking something, punching someone. Maybe, even murder someone. It must have shown of his face, because a pathetic little sound left the girls lips. The hand around her tightened.

"Murtagh, go to sleep.”

"What the _fuck_ is she doing here?"

The girl flinched. Eragon's face twisted into a mix of anger and something else.

"It's none of your business," snapped Eragon, steely, "and if you'll excuse me from this pathetic interrogation, we are going to my room, now."

Murtagh didn't have a reply for that.

He just stood there completely frozen.

Eragon wouldn't _dare_.

This was a nightmare.

Not once in his life had he ever had trouble suppressing his feelings, putting on his mask of calmness. He was infamous for it. Nobody could know what Murtagh was feeling if he didn't want to let them know.

But right then, in that instant, if Eragon had paused in his steps, turned once to look at his the pale young man, standing in the now darkened living room, he would have seen a multitude of emotions etched on that face – shock, bewilderment, anger, betrayal.

But mostly, misery.

*

 _'_ __I love you.'_ _

__It was said in an even tone, as if the words didn't even matter._ _

__There was a pause, and then Eragon laughed._ _

__Murtagh quickly masked his stricken feelings, panic filling him as he watched his brother laugh at him._ _

_'_ __This is what you wanted to tell me? The oh-so-important thing?' Eragon said between giggles. 'Dude, what the hell? Are you feeling sick? Never thought you were one for- ' He guffawed, again. 'Are you planning to kill me are you? Coz, I don't think I'm dying otherwise. And unless I'm dying, or you are dying there's no way those words just came out of your mouth.'_ _

__Murtagh didn't know if he should be thankful or frustrated that his brother didn't understand what he meant. But he couldn't ponder on it for long. He had promised himself he would do it. Push had already come to shove. He couldn't take the secrecy, the hiding any longer. If he didn't come out straight now, someone was going to find. And things would get nasty._ _

_'_ __I'm in love with you, Eragon.'_ _

__Murtagh didn't have to look at his face to know that the smile had dropped._ _

_When he answered, it was a forced laugh,_ __"Right, Ha ha", he said, "Funny, Tag. You got me now. For real."_ _

__The air was getting hot, and Murtagh tugged his collar and rubbed his cheek._ _

__'I'm serious, ' he said, his eyes cleverly avoiding his brother's. 'I'm in love with you.'_ _

__'Gods, Murtagh, stop it. It's not funny.'_ _

__Murtagh didn't reply._ _

__And then, finally, 'You are not kidding, are you?'_ _

__The elder brother waited for the inevitable tongue-lashing, the punches that were sure to fall, the rift between them that was definite to occur. He steeled himself. It would be okay. Once Eragon's brotherly affection turned into hatred, it would be easy to pull himself from his brother. He would be able to move on, may be, even move away._ _

_'_ __Murtagh,' said Eragon, as if he were saying his name for the first, as if he were seeing the older boy for the first time. 'I - I - This - where did this come from?'_ _

__The brunette had no reply for him, again._ _

__In the younger boy's mind, the pieces of the puzzle must be lifting up, slowly, shifting fast, and finally falling into a different order. It must be showing an very different picture, now. And Murtagh had to let him_ _ see _._ __Eragon was probably remembering all the signs – the lingering touches, the unnecessary hugs, the nettling behavior when Eragon wouldn't pay the brunette enough attention, the unwarranted concern, the needless possessiveness._ _

__Shame filled every nerve of Murtagh body as he refused to look at the other boy. He was never one to back out of a challenge, never one to be scared away from facing his fears. He was arrogant, uncaring, and a brute – a smart, fierce man whom everyone admired and loved. He wasn't this pathetic creature, with its head hanging_ _ __low, shame faced, standing in front of his own blood, confessing his undying love, begging for even a shred of acceptance._ _

__Yet, he was._ _

__Even though his body was getting ready for the blows to rain down on it._ _

_'_ __Tag,' said Eragon, his voice soft._ _

__The brunette suppressed a flinch as he felt the warm breathe of the blond boy close to his ears. When had he gotten so close? No, this wasn't right. Murtagh could take a punch, but not this. This closeness wouldn't do them any good._ _

__But he raised his eyes to meet Eragon's, and cursed when he saw the sadness and pity in them. Of course. How could he have doubted. Eragon was his brother after all. A brother with a kind heart. Why would he be angry? He would be sad and sorry. It made sense._ _

__Murtagh's eyes found the empty wall, again, water blurring his eyesight. But he wouldn't let the damned tears fall. He would survive the judgment. He deserved nothing less._ _

__But -_ _

_'_ __Don't' said Murtagh, unable to stop himself, 'Don't say a word, please. I don't wanna hear it.'_ _

__Gentle fingers reached for his chin, tilting his face so that the brunette had no choice but to look at his brother. They were standing in the middle of Eragon's room, their body aligned, standing so close together that their noses almost touched. Murtagh had dreamed of this closeness for nights together, he had lost so much sleep over the possible intimacy he could have with his brother._ _

__But now, he hated it._ _

_'_ __I'm sorry,' whispered Murtagh, his voice breaking, 'I'm so sorry, 'Agon. I tried so hard. I tried all I could to stay away, to forget – but I couldn't, I can't. I'm so sorry I couldn't be the brother you wanted. I really am sorry. So sorry.' Murtagh wasn't thinking anymore. The guilt was so strong he could almost drown in it. If only he had been less of a wanton freak, if only if he had been able to keep his treacherous feelings to himself, not let it consume him, he wouldn't have to lose his brother -_ _

__And suddenly, they were hugging. Eragon enveloped him in a tight hug and something heavy caught at the brunette's chest. He couldn't breathe, not really. There were some soothing whispers, warm hands rubbing his back, but it was all a blur. All Murtagh could feel was the solid heaviness in his heart._ _

_'_ __Hush,' said Eragon, his voice kind, and oh-god, was that sympathy? 'Hush, Tag. It's fine. It's fine, brother. It happens.'_ _

_'_ __No it doesn't,' said Murtagh, automatically. 'I'm a freak Eragon. You don't have to comfort me.'_ _

_'_ __No, no, you are not. You are fine, Tag. We are okay. Don't worry.'__

*

"Your brother's weird."

Eragon stopped unbuckling his belt, and looked in the direction of Arya, who had sprawled herself beautifully on his bed.

"Yeah, he is I guess," said Eragon, resuming his work on his clothes. He slid his pant down his leg and stepped away from them, reaching for his bed and flopping lightly on it. "But he's fine."

There wasn't much room for the two of them, but it wasn't bad. If they were going to sleep together, close to each other, lack of space shouldn't be a problem at all. He reached for his girlfriend dark hair. They felt soft between his fingers, like snow, like silk, like his brother's – no.

"No, really," insisted Arya, "He's seriously creepy. And rude. Unbelievably so. Does he always treat you like that? It's like he's got this crazy obsession with you or something. Did you see his eyes? God, I thought he was gonna hit you or something! Now I kinda understand why you didn't want to tell him about us just yet."

"Shh," Eragon pressed a single finger against the girl's lips, "Enough about my brother, okay? I'm not in the mood for that. I'm in the mood for something else. Something very much Arya Elvan."

A delighted smile bloomed the girl's face.

"Oh really," said Arya, sly now, pushing Eragon down effectively with swift hands, and getting on top of him, "What makes you so sure that you are going _get_ Arya Elvan?"

Eragon gave her a smirk, and raised his neck to catch her lips with his. They were soft and warm, and a shiver of satisfaction ran down his spine. "May be, this?"

Muffled giggles filled the air as Arya kissed back, fiercely, sending tingles to every corner of Eragon's body, and soon, heating him up, getting him fired, sending his body into convulsion of pleasure. By then, he was fast forgetting those hazel eyes, calloused hands and harsh lips that seemed to haunt him forever.

They broke away from their kiss, gasping to regain their breathe, smiling stupidly at each other.

It was then that Arya gave a sudden jolt like she had been struck by something. She turned her head and her eyes narrowed at the door to the room.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered urgently, shifting so that she away from Eragon.

"Hear what?" said Eragon still coming from his high. He raised himself on his elbows and leaned forward in the direction Arya was pointing. "No, I don't –

"Shh," Arya pressed a finger against Eragon's lips, cutting him off. "Not so loud. Keep you voice down. It's like this sound, like an animal or something."

Eragon gave his girlfriend a baffled look "Really, I can't hear a thing. But, if you are sure, we could just have a look?"

"No," Arya shook her head vigorously, "No. I'm scared. Something tells me it's not something I'd wanna see."

"Arya baby," Eragon said, reaching for his girl's cheek and stroked softly, "You are scaring me, now. It's probably nothing, probably something from outside. It's raining like shit, it could be some –

"Just go okay. Just go and make sure everything is fine."

Eragon looked at the brunette on his bed, skeptically, and then, sighed. He grabbed his pant and pulled it up as he made his way to the door.

There was only silence that greeted him.

He was in the middle of the stairway, half naked , with his girl-friend cock blocking. He turned back, and was about to go upstairs and tell his girlfriend that it was nothing at all, and if this was a prank, it wasn't funny, when he heard it.

It was exactly Arya had said, actually. An wounded animal's noise.

And it very much scared Eragon to hear it.

He flew down the stairs, grabbing the torch that was always kept in the living room for emergencies, and turned towards the noise. If he could help it, he didn't want to scare away the animal with the lights on. He hadn't checked the back door, this part of the town, was very close to the woods.

Something could have slipped in through the back yard.

The noise was coming from the kitchen.

Kitchen was ten feet away from the blond boy, who was heaving with anticipation and fear. He couldn't understand either of the emotion. Why would a wounded animal unsettle him so much?

By the time he had calm down enough to continue, the noise had stopped. Gulping down his saliva, Eragon shone the light ahead of him as he stepped inside the kitchen.

He flitted the torch from this corner to that, and found no wounded body and more importantly no blood. He almost relaxed before he saw the pair of boots in the corner where the stove was situation.

His hands automatically found the switch and flooded the room with bright light.

"Oh, it's just you Murtagh," Eragon almost laughed to the broad back of his brother, "Man, for a second there I thought you were burglar or something. Whoot!"

Eragon bent to lean on his knees and took a deep breather before something occurred to him: Murtagh hadn't acknowledged him in the slightest.

With a frown on his face, Eragon looked up at his brother, who still had his back to him, "Hey, did you like, hear that sound –"

The blond boy didn't dare complete his sentence as his most dreaded suspicion was confirmed for him. He hadn't even known it had occurred to him already. But as he watched his brother throw back his head, and let out a long, painful moan, a small part of his mind told him giggled, and sang 'I-told-you-so' to him.

"Murtagh!

Eragon jumped on his brother and pulled the black-haired boy away from the counter. The fire was on; there was a burnt smell in the air. He didn't know when he had started crying, but only realized it when he couldn't see properly as he looked at what should have been his brother's flawless, long fingered hand.

"What have you done?" Eragon screamed at his dazed brother, "You bastard, you selfish, stubborn bastard! What the fuck have you done!"

Murtagh didn't respond. For that matter, Eragon didn't think he was even conscious. The elder boy just slumped into Eragon's arms as he pushed him towards the sink and forced the hand against the flowing water.

"ARYA!" Eragon hollered, "Call the ambulance!"

__*_ _

__It was Friday night. Eragon was dressed unusually well, and not to mention the cologne._ _

__Eragon never wore cologne._ _

__Murtagh switched of the TV as he glanced at his brother, who was hurriedly tying up his boots._ _

_"_ __Where are you going in this weather?"_ _

__Eragon didn't have a car._ _

_"_ __Huh?" Eragon looked disoriented for a second, before he answered, "Oh, the weather. It's fine, I'll just walk down to Saphira's. She promised to drop me."_ _

_"_ __Drop you where?"_ _

_"_ __Oh, just the library. Remember the history paper I told you about? Gotta work out stuff with my partner."_ _

_"_ __On a Friday night?" Murtagh rose and walked to his brother, looking down at him with piercing eyes, daring him to lie to him._ _

_"_ __Yeah. She's going away for the weekend," said Eragon easily._ _

__Murtagh moved closer, putting his pale fingers to Eragon's cheek. There was something beautiful about Eragon tonight. Maybe it was the eyes, Murtagh decided, as he leaned down to capture his startled brother's soft lips._ _

_"_ __It'd better not be a lie."_ _

* * *

_"_ __You are dressed really good, again," commented Murtagh, as he watched his little brother gobble down his breakfast. "Your date in the library must have gone well, huh?"_ _

__Eragon almost chocked in surprise._ _

_"_ __What are you talking about? It wasn't anything like that, and you know it."_ _

__Murtagh pushed back the chair, forcefully. It tittered on its back legs, and before it could fall back on ground, he was at Eragon's side._ _

__The kiss he offered his brother, was not a gentle one._ _

_"_ __I don't like this," he said before biting Eragon's lower lip, prompting the other to moan at the assault, "Who is she?"_ _

_"_ __It's no one," said Eragon, gasping when a hand came to his head and pulled at his hair, harshly. His neck was exposed, and he felt the sharp teeth pierce his skin, and got it stung. Color bloomed his cheeks as a shameful moan escaped his lips._ _

_"_ __You are_ _ _mine_ __, Eragon."_ _

__Eragon didn't reply, but that didn't stop the black-haired man to repeat those words again and again._ _

__When the broke away, Eragon pushed Murtagh and hurriedly wiped his swollen lips with the back of a hand._ _

_"_ __I'll be at Saphira's!" said Eragon as he hurried out of the room. Then out of the house._ _

* * *

__Eragon was about to leave, when the door to Murtagh room's opened. His brother stood leaning on the threshold, arms crossed, surveying Eragon with a cool look._ _

_"_ __Look Murtagh, you are thinking too much."_ _

__A single brow rose, "Am I?"_ _

_"_ __Yeah, you are," called out Eragon as he stepped out, "I'll be back by nine."_ _

*

The hospital room stank of medicine. Eragon hated it.

But what he hated more was the person lying on the white bed, under the white sheet and looking to all the world like he was very dead.

The blond boy clasped the uninjured arm of his brother and whispered a prayer for the thousandth time. "I'm so sorry, Tag. I'm really sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."

His eyes were swollen and his cheeks were dirty. He hadn't had anything to eat since last night an d that had been twenty-one hours before.

"Just wake up. Please,” Eragon spoke to his brother.

Of course, he didn't get a reply. Instead, there was a knock on the door before it was noiselessly opened.

"Everything okay?" Saphira mouthed, as she stepped in.

Eragon shook his head as more tears found their way out, "No, Saph. I don't know. Nothing seems to go right anymore."

"Oh, you poor baby," cooed the blonde girl, as she draped her warm hands tightly around Eragon.

"I just wanted to get away a little," Eragon, still clutching his hands tightly around the pale fingers, "It was too much. It was too – I don't know. I was scared, so scared. But, this? I didn't want this. I didn't think he would be this stupid. Mom would be so ashamed…oh Mom! What am I going to tell her?"

"Hush, hush, it's fine. One thing at a time, Eragon, one thing at a time," she said in a clear voice, that was soothing in its own way. "Doctor says it's nothing a surgery wont cure. Nothing life threatening. It's not even infected. We can tell Selena as soon as he wakes up, which will be soon. So don't put your useless brain through so much work, thinking about nonsense. Okay?"

Eragon gave her a watery smile.

Then, Saphira's cellphone beeped.

"Oh, no," she said, and Eragon immediately understood what that meant.

Thorn was coming.

"Whatever he says," said Saphira, placing a assuring hand on Eragon's shoulder, "don't let him get to you. He won't mean them."

The door rattled as Thorn stormed in.

A distant, 'This is a hospital, mister!' could be heard, before the door was shut behind him by Saphira. She was immediately by the red-head's side, ready to stop him if he did something erratic as he glared in the brothers' direction.

"What the fuck have you done this time, you fucktard?" To Saphira's and Eragon's immense surprise, the question wasn't directed at either of them.

"You brainless idiot," cursed Thorn, as he pulled a chair beside the unconscious man, "I warned you about be so ridiculously obsessive," hissed Thorn, as he fought his tears; he wasn't a man to cry, "See what you got yourself into.'

"You-you don't blame me?" Eragon almost squeaked, across from the red-head.

"What?" It was Thorn's turn to act surprised. "No. No, it's not your fault kiddo."

"But if I hadn't brought Arya" – Eragon started protesting.

"You can't help who you like, Eragon."

"But –"

"Eragon, he says it's fine." said Saphira from beside the redhead, "Why don't you just drop it and not dig yourself a grave - one you could easily avoid?"

Eragon smiled at her, momentarily forgetting the lifeless form before him.

*

When he came to his senses, the first thing he noticed was the soft hair in his face. He smiled when he recognized the smell.

It was Eragon. His face was towards him, clear visible tear tracks running down his cheek. His cheeks were red, so was his nose; lips parted soft puffs of hot air reached Murtagh.

The room was dark, and the drapes were drawn. But Murtagh decided it was night, since there was a silence that you couldn't find in a hospital at daytime.  _And thank god for that,_ thought Murtagh,  _I don't want any stupid visitors lounging around the room and mopping. Just Eragon. Eragon's enough._

He tried moving his right hand, but pain that felt like a lightning had shot through his arm left him gasping for air. It reminded him none too gently of what he had done.

He didn't care.

He removed his other hand from underneath Eragon's sleeping face, slowly. He couldn't help himself as he traced a finger over his brother's furrowed brows, willing them to relax. The lips looked soft, delectable; if he strained down, he could touch them with his.

Eragon was here. Eragon hadn't left him to die. Eragon had given up his girlfriend for him.

His eyes lit up as realized the true meaning of them, and a satisfied smirk grazed his lips.

_Mine._

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I wrote this story in 2011. It's only been three years, and yet, I can't seem to connect with the person I was, when I wrote this.


End file.
